Prayer Flags

You battle with our demons in the dark.
You wake up screaming from your troubled dreams.
Memories of the dark day you embarked,
On a journey far from the red regime,
And left your homeland burning in despair,
Cloud your judgment with endless fear and hate.
The blood drenched land, their crying and their prayers,
Beg you, asking, “When will this hell abate?”

You’re forever holding the dying child,
Your brother in your small arms as he fades,
Alone in the dark, the howling wind is wild
And cruel as a cold rain stabs in cascades.

When she touched your heart she could not foresee,
That compassion could make an enemy.

Note from the Poet: This poem has to do with what my husband went though as a Tibetan in China, holding his brother as he died, while his mother was away at labor camp and everyone was starving, and the forced labor and torture that he went through. These memories and this sadness about what has happened to him, his family and his homeland still haunt him.